Free Billionaire's Runaway Princess by Mia Caldwell Page B

computer and turned it on. When it came to life, she showed Cheryl the list of restaurants he ordered from.
    “He likes Thai food,” remarked Cheryl.
    “Then let’s do that,” said Marisol happily. She felt useful for once, and Ryan’s mother was so sweet she liked doing things with her.
    “Now,” said Cheryl. “Why don’t you get freshened up before my son get’s home.”
    “That’s an idea, but I have very few clothes.”
    “About that. Ryan told me that, and he gave me an idea of your proportions, so I picked up a few things on the way over here.”
    “He really is very worried about that, and I can’t figure it out. There are all those clothes in the second guest bedroom.”
    “Those? Marisol, those are what we collected for Saint Christopher’s in a clothing drive. Saint Chris’ doesn’t have much room, so we keep them here. And while they’re okay, Ryan doesn’t want to see you in other people’s castoffs. Trust me. This is no big deal to him. He never spends money on anything, except me and the kids at the shelter. And believe me, he hauls away a ton of it.”
    Cheryl rolled her eyes.
    “What does his company do?” asked Marisol.
    “I let him tell you. So far I’ve given away too many secrets as it is. Go ahead. The clothes are on your bed. I’ll see you later.”
    “Aren’t you staying for dinner?”
    “No. I’m going to visit Peggy and then get on the train back to Connecticut. I’ll see you another day.”
     
     
     

CHAPTER TEN
Dinner In
    Marisol was impressed by the clothes Cheryl brought. The underwear was lacy and fit her perfectly. There were a couple pairs of slack and shirts, as well as skirts. There was a selection of T-shirts and button downs. Marisol felt very blessed that Cheryl went through so much trouble for her.
    For tonight, Marisol picked a pair of black jeans and a white button-down shirt. Her hair was growing in from the close crop that she kept because of the wigs she usually wore, so she picked at it with her fingers, twisting it into small dreads to give a different look to it. Looking in the mirror, with no wig and no make-up, Marisol understood why the police officer at the hotel didn’t recognize her. She didn’t look like her state pictures at all.
    Cheryl had set the table, including a bottle of wine, when Marisol came out of her bedroom. The buzzer at the service entrance rang, and she took the bag and wrote out the tip. This time she put ten dollars as the tip which, judging by the disinterested look on his face, was probably more in line with what he usually got.
    Marisol wasn’t sure if she should put out the food in bowls, but then heard the front elevator open as she hurried to bring bowls to the table.
    “Hi,” she said when he came to the table.
    “What’s all this?”
    “I have it on good authority that you like Thai.”
    “Oh that wicked woman,” said Ryan, but he smiled an earthshattering grin when he looked at Marisol. “Very nice,” he said. “Let me get out of these work clothes. Turn on the television, will you? I’d like to watch the closing stock reports. And while you’re at it, bring the food to the coffee table. I know my mom has a thing for eating at the table, but at night, I like to relax a bit before I work again.”
    Ryan returned wearing a pair of sweats and a black tee that hugged every muscle in his arms and chest. He was gorgeous, and her knees weakened at the sight of him. She had never felt this way about a man, and she turned her eyes away, afraid she would betray her emotions.
    “Come,” he said, patting the couch beside him. “Sit with me.”
    Marisol settled in next to him as he filled a plate and handed it to her.
    “You have to try the Panang curry. Very spicy, but very good.”
    He made his own plate, and when the stock news came on, he watched it intently. When it was finished he huffed.
    “Well, that didn’t turn out so well,” he said.
    “What?”
    “I’ve been watching the news on a company